


The Emperor's Bodyguard

by SixthSeason



Category: The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: AU, Angst, Character of Color, F/M, Female Hero of Kvatch - Freeform, Jealousy, Martin Lives AU, Masturbation, PC of Color, Porn With Plot, Voyeurism, kinkmeme fill, old fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixthSeason/pseuds/SixthSeason
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: I often imagine what might have come to pass if the Mehrunes Dagon had been defeated without Martin's death, and he went on to become the next Emperor. Likely he'd be shouldered with a great many responsibilities and plenty of stress. Nearly overwhelmed, he'd likely turn to one of his few remaining friends, the one who closed the gate at Kvatch and brought about the end of the Oblivion Crisis, for comfort and support.</p><p>M/M or M/F is fine, bonus points if said Hero is not a suitable candidate for the Emperor to ever marry (is a commoner, criminal, or a man), and double bonus points for secretive love-making. ;D</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Emperor's Bodyguard

**Author's Note:**

> An old Kinkmeme fill from about two, three years back. Uploaded in it's original glory (?) I myself have since retconned this ship, but I can't bring myself to get rid of this piece. So without further delay; enjoy a memory of a more innocent time of my unabashed smut pieces. (Sweet Irony)

I can only watch from afar as the Elder Council erupts in a violent debate for the tenth time in under an hour. Insults and slurs are thrown every which way and that, and I’m pretty sure Valenwood’s ambassador is just about ready to strangle the ambassador to High Rock. Just watching these grown men and women fight like children is enough to make me mentally exhausted, but my concern was Martin. As discreetly as possible, I shifted my eyes over to where he sat in the throne.

It feels weird to say; Martin on the throne. Granted, he was the heir, but even after all the time preparing, it still felt surreal. After what happened when Martin tried to shatter the Amulet was surreal. I was so sure when his hand clasped around the Amulet and squeezed it, he was done for. There was a bright light, Akatosh’s avatar appeared, and Martin had disappeared, but only briefly. From what he told me, he was ‘standing in a Council of The Nine Divines, and they had been pleased with his works’. He had also said that Mara was the most pleased out of all the Nine, but I had yet to figure out why. According to Martin, The Nine agreed that such a hero would be needed on Tamriel for a while yet, and somehow, they sent him back to Mundus. Nine or not, I was overjoyed to have him back again.

Well, when I say “back”, I mean alive.

It all happened so fast; the Elder Council had swept him up in a whirlwind and plopped him down on the throne, without any experience or knowledge on how to rule Tamriel. I’m not one for politics, but I believe the real reason the Elder Council accepted his claim so easily was so they could try to manipulate him into siding with their political views. Just like that, Martin was royalty. As for me? Well, I’m now serving as the Emperor’s bodyguard. Just the Emperor’s bodyguard, mind you. Don’t assume that because I’m his bodyguard I have any special--privileges. If you ask me, I much rather enjoyed being the nameless errand girl up at Cloud Ruler Temple. And I enjoyed Martin being just, well, Martin.

Martin and I have--well, _had_ \--- what you could call an attraction to each other. We were both one in the same. We had both abandoned our past lives to follow a total stranger, we had both done things when we were younger that haunted us even to this day, and when we first met each other, we realized that when we thought about it, we were truly alone in a world full of people. We were foolish enough to write off our relationship as mere friendship, but as time progressed, we both realized we needed more from each other. We stopped being friends and became lovers in secret.

Why secret you ask? Martin is the _Emperor of Tamriel_. Me? I was a thief when I was younger. The Empire would be in an uproar if they found out the Ruler of Tamriel, whom bore the unspoken duty of continuing the Septim bloodline through _noble_ blood, was bedding a former thief. Hell, Chancellor Ocato, the head honcho of the Elder Council was against Martin appointing me as his personal bodyguard. But Martin, being the beautiful and generous person that he is, kindly explained our past relationship (not _all_ the details, obviously) to the Chancellor. Having known the Emperor on a personal level before his rule, I stood out over a list of candidates for Martin’s bodyguard that Ocato had prepared himself. Ocato didn’t like it, but he stepped down and let Martin keep me at his side. As a bodyguard.

It does hurt, only being able to watch him from afar as a bodyguard and not a lover, not being able to touch him, or dig my fingers through his thick, brown hair and into his scalp, or hold him in my arms as he would gently kiss my face, my neck, and my breasts, slowly trailing a trail of kisses down my stomach until he--

A goblet flew across the room at an alarming speed, barely missing the Vvardenfell Ambassador’s head. I shook my head and snapped to attention. Now was not the time and place to be getting aroused. Martin slumped forward in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking quite...annoyed? Martin was a patient man, but I suppose even he had his limits. I silently apologized to him for bringing him to the throne and heaping all this nonsense onto his shoulders. He stood up from his chair, and almost instantly, the room quieted, with the exception of a few stray papers fluttering to the ground.

“How can we expect to get anything done-” Martin began in an unusually regal voice, “-if we are all willing to drive a knife through each others’ backs if it means our own personal gain?”

My heart started to pound with nervousness on what the rebuttal would be. I half expected someone to say ‘This isn’t Chapel, priest!’ But to my amazement, no elf, no man, no beastfolk, nor orc said one word as Martin continued. Martin re-seated himself on his throne, and all eyes watched him intently.

“We are all sons and daughters of Tamriel, and in the end we all strive for the same purpose, do we not?”

The faintest noises of agreement went around the council chamber.

“Then why do we stand here, as respectable men and women, fighting over the same things? Rather, why do we fight over the same things, and yet when another comes searching for the same thing, we are so willing to cut him down and deny him whatever he searches for?”

The Elder Council had quickly downgraded from one of the most powerful political summits to the Emperor reprimanding them all like a father reprimands a group of squabbling children.

“My suggestion is that we all depart from each other’s company from now, and we meditate and pray on how to restore the Empire to a unified state. I dismiss this Council, and I hope to see you all same time, next month.”

One by one, the ambassadors shuffled out the room quietly with their bodyguards in tow. Even I’m struck speechless on how well an inexperienced Emperor could silence an entire room of bloodthirsty politicians. Once the last ambassador had left, Martin almost seemed to deflate in his chair. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed audibly. “May Julianos clear their minds and guide them to make the right decision.” He muttered in a quick prayer. I had to bite back a smile on how little he had changed since ascending to rule.

“Very well handled, sire!” Ocato gushed as he approached Martin, “May I say that had to be the finest display of politics we have seen in a long time? Why, I bet even these ambassador’s previous generations combined couldn’t match your political expertise!”

“You’re just saying that, Chancellor.” He smiled at the High Elf. “I’m sure you could have handled that just as well.”

My heart fluttered for a split second at his humility. Damn the social classes. If it weren’t for them, I’d more than likely be dragging him to the nearest bedchamber.

It’s been two months since our last…“tumble”, give me a break!

“Oh no, your Majesty, I could not have! In the year between our previous Emperor’s death and your ascend, I couldn’t control these bloodthirsty hounds if I tried! May I say again, masterfully executed, My Lord!”

Martin struggled to stifle a yawn as Ocato droned on, showering him with rehearsed praises. I had to get the poor man out of here, or he’d end up on the floor, out cold with exhaustion/

“A thousand pardons, your Excellency,” I murmured in a submissive tone (which I had to get used to if the Chancellor was going to let me stay as Martin’s bodyguard) “I do believe his Majesty is tiring. May I suggest we allow him to rest briefly?”

Ocato’s eyes locked on me and shot daggers for even speaking, but Martin quickly intervened. “That would be best. Perhaps a short rest would be in order.” 

The Chancellor nodded idly, his eyes still locked on me as if he was willing me to drop dead. “Very well. But you must bring the Emperor to the second floor of the Imperial Palace at 7 P.M. sharp. He is to attend a party tonight in his honor, and I don’t want him late. Is that understood, drudge?”

“Yes, your Excellency. I will bring the Emperor to the second floor of the Imperial Palace at 7 P.M. sharp so his Majesty can attend the festivities being held in his honor.”

“Good. Don’t muck it up, drudge, or you _will_ be replaced.”

“Chancellor, I do believe the decisions of replacing _my_ bodyguards is _my_ choice.” Martin surprised both me and the Chancellor with an irate expression written across his face. The Chancellor blushed a new shade of red as he excused himself, sheepishly apologizing all the way. 

“Allow me to escort you to your chambers, My Lord.” I offered, and Martin followed close enough behind me for me to feel his breath in my hair. I prayed that it was only because he was tired and not for some other reason. I clamped down on any hopeful thoughts, reminding myself that in this atmosphere, he is my Emperor, and I am nothing more than his servant. I held open the door to his bedchambers for him and he stepped inside. I had just turned to leave him when his voice stopped me.

“Where are you going?” His voice almost sounded surprised.

“I was going to leave you to rest?” My answer came out sounding more like a question.

“You’re going to leave me alone?”

My heart began to beat heavily, almost painfully in my chest. I cursed myself for misinterpreting everything he said in hopes that he’d notice me as a lover once more, and not a mere bodyguard. “Yes, Sire. You need your rest, and I need not disturb you further.”  
A hand shot out and grabbed mine and pulled me into his bedchamber and locked the door behind me.

“Your Majesty--” I began to protest, but he cut me off by pressing a finger against my lips.

“You are my bodyguard, are you not?”

“Yes?”

He removed his finger and drew back from me with that gentle smile of his as he made his way over to his dresser. “Then it is your duty to protect me, isn’t it?”

“Yes, your Majesty, but in your _bedchamber_?”

He opened a drawer and rummaged through the clothes absently. “You never know, Assassins are unpredictable nowadays.” He said with a laugh.

“Your Maj-” I shook my head and lowered my voice. “ _Martin._ Your life is hardly a joking matter!” I chided him. “Please don’t say such things!”

Martin had stopped going through his dresser and looked at me with nothing but relief written within his gorgeous ice-blue eyes. I was slightly caught off guard by his expression. “What is it?” I managed to squeak out.

“I was beginning to worry that you had forgotten who I was to you. I had started to think you had begun to see me only as an Emperor.”

“No,” I blurted out, “Never...It’s just--You’re the Emperor and I am- well, _was_ a thief. If the Empire were to find out that we were--”

“I understand completely.” He soothed, “But sooner or later, they _will_ find out, and they won’t be able to do a thing about it will they?”

I shook my head violently in protest. “No, they cannot be allowed to find out, Martin! If they found out, you’d never hear the end of it! Your own people will come to scorn you for-” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “ -For bedding a thief!”

“I am not bedding a thief.” He made his way over to me and caressed my cheek. “I am bedding my lover.”

Gods, when was the last time he had touched me like this? I leaned my cheek into his hand and covered his hand with my own. Why did it have to matter, royal blood this, and royal blood that? Blood is blood. Blood flows red. Blood flows. Blood doesn’t define a person, but a person’s heart does. Even if for a moment, I wanted to relish the feeling of the warmth on his skin against mine, even if it was in a sweet, platonic way. He pulled his hand away and smiled at me as he began to remove the exquisitely designed robes from off of his body.

“What are you doing?” I sputtered.

“‘You must bring the Emperor to the second floor of the Imperial Palace at 7 P.M. sharp’, remember?”

“I remember, but it’s only a quarter ‘till the sixth hour.”

“Oh, is it?” He muttered absently, _still_ removing his clothes.

“Yes, you’ve got well over an hour.”

“Well, you can’t blame me from wanting to get out of these horribly uncomfortable clothes, now can you?” His cloak came off, and my heart began to slam against my chest again when I saw his beautifully sculpted torso break free of the restraining cloak. I had nearly forgotten what his skin looked like, and I _had_ forgotten what it felt like. It took every ounce of willpower in my being (which wasn’t much to begin with) to not tear his remaining clothes off and my armor as well and just mount him on his bed. Instead, I can only watch as my quasi-estranged lover removes each article of clothing in a taunting manner, until he’s left in nothing but bare skin.

I can feel all the blood in my body travel to the junction between my legs, heating it up like an oven and making it ache, desperate for relief. Before I am tempted further, I clamp my eyes shut. I can feel his rough hands cup my face and gently turns my head towards him. I open my eyes and look at him.

“Azure,” He said in a voice that could only be described as pleading, “Touch me.”

My voice died trying to escape my throat, so I can only mouth the word “What?”

His hands dropped from my face and slid down my arms until they found my hands. “It has been far too long since I have felt your hands upon my skin. _Too_ long. I just want to feel your touch again, if only for a moment.”

My touch was tentative as I reached out and framed my hands around his face. He sighed and leaned his head into my touch, and it was almost as if a weight had dissolved from over his shoulders. My fingers skimmed down his cheeks and brushed over his jawline, and I relished in the combination of stubble and smooth skin on his handsome face. Martin was right, it _had_ been too long. With my touch more confident, my hands traveled down his neck and parted ways at his shoulders, processing every little muscle under his skin. I then trailed my fingers over his pectorals, brushing his nipples briefly, causing him to moan faintly. I took my time on his abdomen, appreciating on how the muscles were there, but not overly defined. My fingers halted just over the most secret part of his entire anatomy. I looked up at him, surprised to see him looking back at me with a hungry expression. I then shifted my gaze down to his girth, which was already half-erect. It would be cruel just to leave it here, wouldn’t it? My hands traveled south, briefly passing over a patch of hair before reaching--

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty, are you in there?”

I withdrew my hands faster than lightning and snagged a towel on Martin’s bedside table and tossed it at him. I stormed over to the door and threw it open. “What?!” I squawked before realizing it was Chancellor Ocato.

Chancellor Ocato glowered down at me, but quickly looked me over as his gaze shifted to Martin, who seemed just as irritable as I was. Martin stepped from behind a folding screen, only having time to wrap the towel around his waist. “What is it Chancellor?” He snapped, his voice tight.

“Endless apologies, Sire,” Ocato blustered, “But the guests are arriving now!”

“That hardly seems like a reason to burst in on me while changing.”

“I apologize again, My Lord, but a guest of utmost importance has arrived, and she is demanding she meet you now!”

Martin’s curiosity seemed piqued as his brow relaxed. “Who is this guest?”

“She has required me to say no more until you meet her in person, My Lord.”

Martin sighed. “Very well. I will meet with her,” he paused, then added, “ _after_ I change.”

“I apologize again.” Ocato turned to leave, then stopped to look back at me. “Well? Come along, drudge, and leave the Emperor with some privacy!”

I prayed that Mara would see this interference as grounds for smiting. 

No sooner after the door to Martin’s room had closed, the Chancellor lumbered over me with his nastiest glower yet. “Pay attention, drudge, for I am not going to repeat myself. The guest of honor the Emperor is meeting tonight holds the possible future of the Septim bloodline in her hands, and I want you to stay out of the way and keep your mouth shut. Am I understood?”

“Yes, your Excellency. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but what do you mean ‘holds the possible future of the Septim bloodline?”  
Ocato snorted and waved his hand dismissively. “That is none of your concern, drudge. Know your place before asking such meddling questions. Now have the Emperor on time! You will be punished if he is even a second late, you hear?”

“Yes, Chancellor. I understand.” _Gods,_ would he ever get off my back? As if I didn’t know already that Martin and I could never--

“Is he gone?” Martin opened the door and stepped out, clothed in his evening attire.

“Yes, he is. The Chancellor has requested that you head down to meet your guests immediately, Sire.” Martin’s expression looked almost hurt as I reverted to calling him “sire” again. And I was just as equally hurt that this was probably the closest encounter with him I’d ever have for the rest of my life. What choice did I have? Ocato was riding my arse all the time, and if he had seen what I was doing to the Emperor, I dare not think about it. I did my best to squelch any disappointment on my face and led the Emperor to the second floor resuming my duties as a mere bodyguard to the Emperor. I remained silent as I led him through the halls of the Imperial palace. We had just made it to the door to the second level before Martin spun me around, pinned my wrists over my head against the wall and caught my mouth in a deep, impassioned kiss.

Reflexively, I pulled away, snatching my hands free of his grip. “What are you doing?!” I hissed at him, “What if the Chancellor saw us?”

Again, Martin looked pained. He gently brushed his thumb against my cheek as his sad, blue eyes locked with mine. “Am I not allowed to touch the woman I love?”

My heart beat so painfully in my chest. If only I could tell him right then and there how badly I wanted him--how badly I _needed_ him. But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t allow him to be subject to scorn, mockery and hate for my sake. I can now only watch him and love him from afar. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat and averted my gaze.

“I’m sorry.” I choked out.

His hand dropped from my face and I swore I could hear his heart shatter. We stood there for what seemed like an eternity, both registering the rift that had wedged itself in between us.   
\--

“I should be escorting you to your party, your Majesty.” The word ‘Majesty’ physically hurt coming out of my mouth. Martin nodded listlessly and resumed following me up the stairs. Mara forgive me.

“It’s about time, drudge!” Ocato snapped as I opened the door for Martin. “Her Ladyship has been eager to meet his Majesty, and here you are, stalling and mucking abou--Sire? Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine, Chancellor. I’m just suffering from...mild chest pains.”

My heart throbbed painfully at his admission, but I can only keep my mouth shut as Ocato began fussing over Martin like a mother hen, drilling him with questions on his overall health. Gods forbid if the Emperor were to fall ill under Ocato’s care. 

“Do not worry about me, Chancellor. I will be fine.”

Again, the painful throb of my heart. No longer could he come to me when he was in desperate need of comfort. No longer could I cradle him in my arms as he poured out his heart to me when it came to his past. No longer could I be his lover.

“If you insist, your Majesty.” Ocato then turned to a servant standing not too far off from us. “You there. Inform her Ladyship at once that the Emperor has arrived.” The servant nodded and sped around the corner in a heartbeat. “Sire, ever since your ascend to rule, Lady Saursara has been so very eager to meet you.”

“Lady Saursara? Why does that name sound so familiar?”

Ocato all but chirped out his answer. “Lady Saursara is the daughter of the Lord Kalalas, current head of the Thalmor in the Summerset Isle.”

Martin’s eyes couldn’t help but widen. “The Summerset Isle, you say? I thought they were at ends with us after boycotting all Imperial goods.”

“Well, yes, they are, but Lady Saursara has come to try an end to that, and find a middle ground, so to speak.”

My brow knit ever so slightly. This seemed shifty to me. Why didn’t this Lady Saursara attend the Elder Council today to try to clear this issue up? Why wait until now? What did she _really_ want with Martin?

“Ah, your Ladyship.” Ocato boomed. I snapped my head up to see an Altmer woman with glossy, auburn hair, and burning green eyes gracefully stride up to us. A huge, hulking Orc trudged behind her, armed to the teeth with ebony armor and a menacing war axe on his back. 

“Lady Saursara, may I introduce to you Martin Septim, Emperor of Tamriel. Your Majesty, Lady Saursara.”

Martin flashed his best smile at Saursara, and he took her hand in his to press a chaste kiss against the back of it. That was enough to stir my blood and grit my teeth a little. I realised the Altmer staring at me in scrutiny and I quickly bowed. “Your Grace.”

“My Liege,” _Damn,_ this woman’s voice was sultry! “May I say what an honor it is to finally be able to meet you. I have heard all the songs and tales, but none had described how _handsome_ you are.”

My stomach twisted into a knot. By the Nine, was she trying to… _seduce_ him?!

Martin smiled in response. “My Lady, you do me too much honor. For you are also a vision to see.”

“Well then, how about we all proceed to the dining hall to get better acquainted before the other guests arrive?” Ocato offered, clapping his hands. “Please, follow my servants to the dining hall.” I can only watch from afar as Martin and Saursara walk down to the hallway, side-by-side. Ocato hung back, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Yes, I must say I’ve outdone myself in finding a perfect suitor for his Majesty.”

 _Suitor?_ As in… _marriage?_ I suddenly feel angry, betrayed, and saddened all at once. “Your Excellency, I--I do believe Lady Saursara’s bodyguard is more able-bodied than I. Perhaps I should step down for the night?”

For once, Ocato actually seemed pleased with me. He waved his hand carelessly as he followed after Martin and Saursara. “Do what you will, but if his Majesty asks for you, you be back, understood, drudge?”

“Yes, your Excellency. I will.”

A lie.  
\--  
Later that night, I waited in the darkness of my living quarters for a knock summoning me to Martin’s side once more. Hours went by, and no knocks nor shuffling of feet approached. I can only visualise the party going on a few floors ahead of me, and Martin enjoying himself to the--

No.

I knew Martin better than that. He wasn’t one for large crowds of people. At most, he’d have no more than four at his side. He preferred a good book over gossip and politics. He must be horribly uncomfortable up there, with all the nobles and lords smothering him. I got up off the bed and made my way over to the door, only to be stopped short. I was being such a hypocrite, switching this way and that. I tell him that I can only be his bodyguard and nothing more, and here I am, ready to go upstairs to comfort him. I took my hand off the doorknob and turned the lock instead.  
“He won’t need me for much longer, anyway.” I tell myself. “Lady Saursara will actually be _allowed_ to remain at his side. Forever.” Soon Martin would ask her hand in marriage, the throne will have an Empress, and give a few more years, the Septim line would continue with more heirs of noble blood. A brief thought of Martin’s hands stroking Saursara’s face flashed in my mind. Those hands that would never touch me again, but touch another… And I would be reduced to imagining another woman’s husband with his hands on me.

Martin’s hands. Those same hands that had caressed my face mere hours ago, begging for me to touch him. _Needing_ me to touch him. I close my eyes and pictured him standing in front of me naked once more. I try with every ounce of my being to recollect the feeling of his skin under my hands. I removed my armor, and my clothes underneath and lay down on the bed in my smalls. I closed my eyes again, and sure enough, he’s still there in my mind. I spread my legs apart to cup a hand around my nether region, allowing my palm to apply pressure to my clit. I grind my palm against it, willing myself to imagine that it’s Martin’s hand stimulating me. I began moving my hips against my hand a bit more firmly, and I let my free hand slip under my breast band. I pulled it down enough so that my nipples were exposed. I wet a finger in my mouth and drew it over the sensitive peak, picturing Martin’s tongue teasing and lapping at it. I mewled and squeezed my breasts at the thought. Crawling to the edge of the bed, I straddled a corner of the mattress and began sweeping my hips over it, hitting my bud just right. I tore my breast band off to cup my ample swells, my fingers sweeping and swiping over my hardened nipples. In my mind, Martin was just as aroused as I was, as his hardened member showed. He had removed his smalls and crawled over me, nothing but love written in his handsome features. He slowly, almost agonizingly entered me, the feeling of his throbbing length inside me only making me burn with lust. With a soft cry, I bucked my hips against the mattress a bit too violently , sending me falling to the floor. Clamping my eyes shut, my hands slipped beneath the band of my underwear and I quickly penetrated myself with a finger, soon followed by another. “Martin…” I moaned as he began pounding into me in my mind. “Martin… _take_ me. Gods, _take_ me!”

I nearly had a heart attack when hands yanked me up off the floor and tossed me onto my bed. My eyes widened to see Martin positioned over me in the moonlight. I was flooded with relief, happiness, and a renewed need as we crashed our lips together in a bruising kiss. I tangled my hands in his thick brown hair and scratched desperately at his scalp. He struggled to get free of his clothes and I assisted him, tearing each article of clothing from his body until he stood in front of me stark naked; a desperate attempt to feel him again. He ripped my breast band away from my body, and assaulted my breasts with his mouth. I arched my back into him and reached down in between his legs to grab his girth with my hand. I began to pump my hand along his shaft, and he couldn’t help but moan loudly. I startled for a moment, thinking someone on the outside may have heard him, but that didn’t stop Martin from yanking my underwear from over my legs and entering me. The sensation of him filling me once more nearly brought me to my undoing as he pounded into me long and hard. I gripped his shoulders tightly and wrapped my legs around his waist as I clenched my walls down on him, causing him to cry out in pure pleasure.  
He struck back by driving into me as hard and fast as he could, drawing wild patterns with his tongue over my nipples and his hand rubbing my clit.

“Scream.” He ordered. I looked up at him in surprise. 

“I--If I scream, they’ll know.”

“Exactly,” he panted. “I’m sick of--nghh--I’m sick of having to hide what we have, Azure. I don’t give a damn who hears us. I _want_ them to know. I want them to know that you are mine, and no one else’s, and I am yours and no one else’s.” He lowered his head to mine and began rubbing me even harder and thrusting his fastest. “Scream!”

“MARTIN!” I cried at the top of my lungs as I came, “OH GODS, YES, MARTIN! MORE! _YES!_ ”

He yelled my name equally as loud, as he released himself deep into me before collapsing on my chest, resting his face against my left breast. He panted heavily as he looked up at me through hooded eyes. He was still buried inside me, but I made no attempt to pull away or protest. For the first time since gods-know-when, my heart is no longer heavy. I laced my fingers into his hair to massage his scalp just the way he loves it. He groaned faintly in approval.

“Why did you come down here?” I murmured into his hair. I can guess how he opened the door; alteration spell.

“I had wondered why you had disappeared at dinner tonight. I would’ve come down sooner, but the Chancellor was dragging me every which way and that, trying to establish connections, and Lady Saursara would not get off my back this entire evening.”

“Lady Saursara?”

I could feel him nod against my chest. “Turns out she was only out for my hand for political reasons.” He paused to look up at me. “I would never marry another woman, if that is what you’re wondering. I _couldn’t_ marry another woman.” He propped himself up on his elbows to look down at me. “Remember after the Amulet shattered? And I told you I was in a council of the Nine Divines?” 

I nodded.

“I had said that Mara had been the most pleased out of all of them. Because even in death, my love for you remained strong. Mara was the one who sent me back to Mundus to be reunited with you.” He then leaned down to kiss me deeply. “The last thing I’d want is for Mara’s blessing to be in vain.” He said when we had parted. “I don’t care who mocks, scorns, or belittles us. I refuse to cast you aside because of some superficial social standings. Damn all those things to Oblivion.”  
“And the Chancellor?”

“If he has anything to say against it, then damn him to Oblivion, too.”

We slept side-by-side together, just the two of us, not caring about politics, wars, social classes, or arranged marriages. It was clear that we both loved each other and needed each other. After all we had been through together, we were inseparable. 

Ocato could kiss my arse if he thought he could tell _me_ any different.


End file.
